Whispers

This short story, I hate to admit, is actually a fanfiction *cringe*. But I figure the emotions are real enough and could relate just as well to any character (also as probably no-one has ever heard of this fandom). Take a read, and tell me what you think.

 

She stood by the window, watching, waiting. Always waiting, now. Rain turned into sun, turned into night. The moonlight glowed across the cobbled streets. Once she would have deemed it beautiful. Now it was only a stark reminder of what had once been.

She turned away and looked inwards. She’d never realised how large a lonely house could feel. And it was. Forgotten memories played out across every surface. This place was no longer her home. It was her prison, and his memory her torture.

As she climbed the stairs to the room they had shared. She paused on the stair that creaked. A memory danced across her face. She looked back down and thought even now she regretted letting him leave for his duty. A mission he wouldn’t let her come to. He had stopped her on this stair.

 She continued to climb, the task almost laborious. She paused as her hand stroked the door handle, the metal cool against her palm. She turned it and entered.

This was one of the worst places. The warm walls and soft surroundings should have been a comfort, but they weren’t. She leaned against the closed door and shuddered an inhalation, her breath catching in her throat. She opened them again and padded across the room.

She stood before the mirror at the woman who was not her. She had barely eaten since he had gone, almost two months now; barely slept either. Her eyes were bloodshot and sunken into her sallow face. The smile that had once danced across her lips had faded to extinction. She felt so alone. Her clothes hung off her fragile frame, limp and dull. Her hair hung in front of her face in ragged strands. She couldn’t bare the image before her, and turned away.

She walked over to the drawers that had been his, ran her fingertips across the top, disturbing the dust blanket atop of it. She pulled one of the drawers open and was surrounded by his aroma. Tears formed in her eyes as she replaced her jumper with one of his, letting his feeling engulf her entirely. She let them stream down her face as she settled onto the bed.

She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. The times before he was gone flooded through her mind; every whispered word and secret touch. She extended her hand across to the side where he had slept, so cold now, when once there had been roaring life. She felt cold.

 She turned on her side, away from the light, curling her legs up to her chest. She blinked away the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

Then, there was a breeze. The window swung open, the curtains drifting in the night air. It was warm outside, for the time of year. She closed her eyes again, and it almost felt like a breath tickling her neck. The warmth spread to envelop her tiny form, curled up on its side. She thought she felt his hands, one curling around her waist, the other tousling her hair slightly. Another tear leaked from the corner of her eye. This is how all of her dreams were now, and she was dreading the moment she would wake and find it all to be a lie. But for now, she would let herself sleep. She took a deep breath and let sleep engulf her. In that misty haze, she thought she even heard him, but denied it to the trickery of the wind.

 “I’ve missed you.”